


Eggshells

by little_murmaider



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Accidentally calling your bandmate a very unbrutal term of endearment, Disassociation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Klok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_murmaider/pseuds/little_murmaider
Summary: Nathan and Skwisgaar white-knuckle through a moment of mutual fragility.
Relationships: Nathan Explosion/Skwisgaar Skwigelf
Kudos: 39





	Eggshells

Skwisgaar never knew when he slipped into it, or even when he slipped out. He only knew, in the vaguest way, when he was _in_ it. The snowy rush of static across his vision. The endless loop of feedback echoing in his ears. The dull ache below his wrists. When he came to it was slow, foggy, as though stepping out of a lucid nightmare. Never all at once. Never like he was a meteorite ripping through the atmosphere on a course to rearrange the Earth’s continents.

Never on the living room floor, gasping, with Nathan straddling his chest.

“Come on come on come on **_stop it_**.” Nathan’s reedy voice slashed through the haze, Skwisgaar’s cheek numbing in the spot where it was slapped. “Snap out of it snap **_out_** of it baby you _can’t_ stroke out baby we have a gig tomorrow baby wake **_up_**.”

“ _Nathans_.”

“Oh **_fuck_**.”

He rolled off with a monstrous exhale and slumped against the couch, his head flopping into the cushion as he scrubbed his eyes. The room sharpened into focus. Pinkening sky illuminating the space between the broken blinds. Beer cans near the apartment entrance crushed flat at their centers. His guitar splayed strings-down on the kitchen floor.

Skwisgaar sat up.

“I thoughts you was goingk to works.”

“That was **_six hours ago_** dude.” Nathan’s hair was folded in a sloppy bun at the nape of his neck, the ends spiking out from the elastic like an angry succulent. “What the fuck? Have you been sitting here fretting the **_whole time_** I was gone?”

Skwisgaar flexed his shaky hands. Blood throbbed at the ends of his fingers.

“Uh.”

“What the **_fuck_**?”

“Maybes?”

“What **_the fuck_** has this happened before?”

“Eughh.”

“ ** _What_** **_the fuck?_** ”

Skwisgaar closed his eyes, his brain pulsing behind his eyelids.

“Why?” Nathan pressed the heels of his hand to his temples. “Why? Why. **_Why_** what the **_fuck_**?”

“Magnus saids somet’ings—“

Nathan squared his shoulders, the set of his jaw hardening. “Magnus said something to you?”

“Noes, it nots—Magnus didn’t says anyt’ings to mes. He didn’t says anyt’ings _about_ mes eithers. He just.” Skwisgaar drew his knees up to his chest and gripped his ankles. “He saids somet’ings about de gigs. Ands it…set off somet’ings, in mes.”

Skwisgaar felt Nathan clutch his forearm.

“Does this happen a lot?”

“I dont’s.” A weight clotted his chest, as though his lungs were filling with blood. “I don’ts know.”

“What the _fuck._ ”

“It just always been likes dis.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth, exhaustion dragging at the corners of his eyes. “Somet’ing happens, and I feel bads, so I plays de guitar til I _don’ts_ feel bads. Kinda likes a _hueeeegggghhhhh_ a Rudes Gold-hergs machine? Of fucks?”

Nathan’s sigh cut through the silence that followed. The rug shuffed as denim slid across it, then Nathan’s hip was pressed against his, his forehead pressed to Skwisgaar’s shoulder.

“It happen most whens I’s alone,” Skwisgaar offered.

“Well. In that case. You should uhhhhhhhhhhhhh come to bed. With me.”

Skwisgaar pushed his face through Nathan’s hair.

“So you won’t. Be alone. Or whatever.”

“Mm.”

“That wasn’t a request, by the way. I can _make_ you come to bed with me. I’m very strong and lifting you is like lifting a Ziplock of grapes—“

“Dids you call me baby?”

Heat rolled off Nathan in waves. “What?”

“Befores.”

“No.”

“It kinda sounded likes…”

“ ** _No_**.”

“You called mes baby.”

“I was saying it like, you’re _being_ a baby, for not listening to me, and for freaking out about nothing, you **_baby_**.”

Skwisgaar curved his fingers beneath Nathan’s jaw, tilted his face up and kissed him soft, gentle, on the mouth.

“ ** _Baby_** ,” Skwisgaar murmured against his lips.

“Uh-huh?”

“Takes me to beds.”

“Okay.”


End file.
